Chapter 475: Chapter 475

When the attendants led him into the bamboo garden, it was dawn. Under pear trees several people tall, a woman in a teal Daoist robe was holding a long sword. With each movement of the sword, blue spiritual light seemed to flash through the air, leaping between the crimson mornings on the mountainside, indescribably gorgeous and majestic.

Having never seen such a scene, no matter how mature for his age, he was still an eight-year-old child. Sima Rui was stunned, his eyes wide as he stood there dazed, not even realizing the short sword in his hand had fallen.

Kids—who hasn’t had a xianxia dream?

At that moment, the child’s yearning for cultivation clearly reached its peak.

“Stop staring. What are you waiting for? I only practice this sword technique once a day!”

Only when the slightly cool voice of the woman in front sounded did Sima Rui snap back to his senses. He hastily straightened up and studied her with full attention.

To be honest, although the sword technique looked graceful and lively, the moves themselves were not especially difficult. With a basic martial foundation, Sima Rui quickly memorized them.

But after more than half an hour, when he shyly stepped forward to present tea to his teacher, and just as he was about to pick up his little sword to familiarize himself with the moves, he suddenly realized that the techniques from just moments ago in his mind had become a muddled blur…

At that time, An Ning had already risen and left with nimble efficiency.

Clutching his short sword, Sima Rui was, for once, disheveled by the breeze.

Inside the room, Siya, who had come by to play during a break, laughed so hard she clutched her belly and shook.

She’d known it—earlier she had sworn she’d understood it after just a few tries, but a year had passed and she could only fumble through a few moves.

Spiritual glow, a sense of energy?

Sigh, nothing at all!

Although she mostly lived outside, that was part of it!

Watching her second sister who had already picked up a brush not far away, Siya obediently covered her mouth and took out the homework Tutor Xie had assigned for today.

Although the mountain was peaceful, it wasn’t exactly bustling or entertaining. An Ning herself was fine—she read, painted, studied Daoist methods, and occasionally closed herself off for a retreat, going to the Star-Picking Tower to review celestial phenomena.

In short, she had plenty of interesting things to do with her hands, and being alone often didn’t feel lonely.

Siya was different. No matter how clever, she still had a youthful temperament and loved noise. She had to call friends over from time to time to feel happy. Staying in the mountains too long could be boring.

An Ning didn’t want to hold her back, and since Tutor Xie and his family had been vindicated and their old residence returned, she simply lived with them.

“By the way, Second Sister, do you know?” Seeing her older sister free, Siya couldn’t help but speak up:

“Sigh, actually Tutor Xie had two older sisters. One was just a distant cousin, and because she married she narrowly escaped exile. But—”

It was frustrating. According to the law, married daughters weren’t implicated, that part was true, but life after that…

Sometimes Siya thought it might have been better to be with family and be done with it, at least to have family.

Just by the look on the little girl’s face, An Ning had already guessed most of the story.

Indeed, how many people were there like Tutor Yang?

An Ning flipped the long scroll in her hands as Siya chattered on:

“You don’t know, Second Sister. Tutor Xie’s eldest sister was pregnant when the family’s trouble happened. Only a few months gone and both mother and child died. The only daughter left had an awkward position.

A legitimate eldest daughter ended up treated with less dignity than a favored concubine’s daughter, and the jewelry was only for show.”

Fortunately that household still had some face. After what happened, they feared being called heartless; outward treatment had some semblance, though the servants were harsh.

“Sigh, that cousin of theirs was even worse off. She married a poor provincial scholar, who was squeezed dry and died early. That huge dowry was all swept away. Not even the legitimate son got a penny.

If it weren’t for that clever kid, who after asking around pleaded with a colleague of Tutor Xie’s and managed to pass the county-level exams early—who knows what would have happened!”

Thinking of how kind Tutor Xie was, trembling with anger at the time, Siya sighed between words.

Her delicate face puckered in disgust.

People always said countryside folk were shallow-eyed and greedy, but weren’t scholar families and rich families the same? It seemed the same everywhere.

But Siya wasn’t petty; after a brief sulk she brightened up and, seeing An Ning free again, launched into lively stories from the mountain foot.

Especially all kinds of juicy gossip. From dukes and marquises to clean-living officials, there was nothing this little girl couldn’t pry into.

Even the Wu Yang Marquis’s Household’s carefully hidden tidbits.

Like the day the Marchioness, ignoring her dignity, stormed out of the residence and even threatened the Marquis to get a doctor for the seriously ill previous young master.

The Wu Yang Marquis was ruthless—his biological son’s life hung by a thread, and he wouldn’t even let a doctor see him.

Or the time the residence’s Second Young Master, that is the current Marquis’s heir, nearly fell from his horse and the Fourth Young Master bashed his head, and the birth mother was sent away to a manor…

Because of previous ties and the household’s drama, it was a prime target for Siya’s gossip.

While pouring tea, An Ning couldn’t help but glance up and linger on the other girl’s face for a moment.

Tsk, that information-gathering and social ability—if she didn’t go into intelligence work, that would be a waste of talent!

After chattering most of the day and playing at the temple for several days, it wasn’t until the seventh day that Siya reluctantly descended the mountain and left.

During that period, An Ning still practiced a little swordwork each morning in the courtyard.

Apologies, but as a casually eccentric person who disliked expressing herself, there really wasn’t much patience for long explanations.

As the saying goes, a master leads you to the door, cultivation depends on the person.

Fortunately, knowing her temperament, the child before her didn’t ask many questions.

Except for that first day, Sima Rui would come for more than half an hour each morning, always carrying various Daoist scriptures and sometimes An Ning’s paintings.

Besides constantly trying the sword moves, he never let go of those books.

It was clear he already understood that mere memory couldn’t lead to true comprehension—the technique could not be grasped by rote.

Watching the eight-year-old who would rise before the hour of the rabbit to meditate in the mountains until the first sliver of sunlight, a child who normally never let go of holy texts, even the system clicked its tongue in admiration.

“If only Siya had that kind of perseverance and diligence…”

“One is interest, one is survival—can they be the same?” An Ning couldn’t help but shoot the system a look.

Comparing the crown prince, under the palace’s daily crushing pressure, to a free-range mountain girl—that was pure bullying, wasn’t it?

Of course, in a previous life Xiao Ling might have tried.

Thinking of Siya’s constant lively, mischievous charm whenever she came, An Ning felt this arrangement wasn’t so bad.

“By the way, host, are you really going to teach him?”

She glanced at the kid who was still earnestly swinging his sword.

Not to be dismissed, the solid foundation laid earlier and almost a year’s practice had actually given him a trace of energy perception.

Although he still stood nearly eight zhang away from the threshold, the system couldn’t help but rub its chin in approval. Given this world’s spiritual energy and that somewhat unorthodox entry-level sword technique, it was already very good.

The answer came from its host’s unmistakable look of exasperation: “As if I haven’t taught before. If that one-in-a-million chance is an opportunity, isn’t that still an opportunity?”

Cultivation depends on individual comprehension.

As for the secret of the method—don’t be foolish.

In a world , how could she allow such a thing to leak from her hands?

She accepted the cup of tea the boy had offered and sipped it with an air of complete composure.